Genovia's Prince
by TwirlsWrites
Summary: Kurt is the heir to the throne in Genovia. "Well I always knew you were my prince, I just didn't realize you were an actual one." To Kurt's mortification he felt his face flush. "Blaine, that was so cheesy."
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Genovia's Prince

**Author**: Me!

**Pairings**: Klaine.

**Plot**: Kurt is the heir to the throne in Genovia. (Glee/The Princess Diaries | More of Movie!Grandmere, than book.)

**Disclaimer**: I own neither Glee, nor the Princess Diaries

**Excerpt**: _Well, so since my Mom was Royalty, I'm a prince." "Well I always knew you were my prince, I just didn't realize you were an actual one." To Kurt's mortification he felt his face flush. "Blaine, that was so cheesy._

* * *

><p>"Grandmère, what are you doing here?" she has told Kurt a million times that it's impolite to stare, but he knows he is anyway. She looks at him and smiles, her eyes flicker to look Blaine up and down, and Kurt tighten his grip in the other boy's hand. Blaine squeezes back reassuringly.<p>

"Hello Mrs. Renaldi, it's nice to meet you," Blaine said dapper as ever, he shook her hand and kissed the top of it. Kurt quietly thanks Grilled Cheesus that Blaine had heard his whisper earlier, "I'm Blaine Anderson."

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Anderson."

Seriously, though, what was she doing here? Grandmère never comes to visit Burt and him. She always says that she hates Ohio, and that it gives her a Rash. Kurt knows that it just reminds her of Mom's funeral, her death. Blaine, apparently sensing his boyfriend's unease, takes his hand again.

"Kurt, I would love to meet your boyfriend and have dinner with the two of you sometime in the future. However, I am afraid that you and I need to talk alone."

What? Kurt looks over to his Dad, who had taken off his had and was rubbing the back of his head, avoiding his son's gaze.

"Blaine, why don't you come into the den and watch the game with me." He said, motioning him over.

"Uh, sure." Blaine shot Kurt a concerned look, which he shrugged off, following Grandmère into the kitchen. She sat at the table and looked at her grandson.

"I think you know why I am here, Kurt."

"You know, I really really don't," Kurt replied warily, "You never come to Ohio, not sense… well, not for a long time." Kurt always loved when she was in the states, though. She would fly into New York, and pay for the Hummels to take the train up to visit. She had even met Finn and Carole at one point, though they didn't know everything about…

"You are the only heir to the throne, Kurt." Grandmère said.

"What?" Kurt's voice shot even higher than usual, "No I'm not Grandmère, no I'm not – what about Uncle Phil?"

"Phillipe," she corrected lightly, "had no children, you know that. He recently had testicular cancer."

"Oh… is he okay?" Kurt asked hesitantly.

"He's fine, but he will not be having any children in the future." Kurt slumps down in his chair.

"Grandmère, I can't be a prince!"

"My dear boy, you _are_ a prince. " she corrected him, rolling her eyes.

"B-but Grandmère, I'm gay! I want to go to college in New York, and sing on Broadway, and I don't want to rule a country!"

"Kurt, you will be able to do all of those things. Your Uncle will take over the throne long before you ever will. You will be able to go to college, and I see no reason why your sexuality should be a problem – Genovia is a very accepting country, you know, I see your royalty greatly helping the movement."

Kurt, his face buried in his arms on the table, was barely listening at that point.

"Kurt, "Grandmère put her hand on his arm, "you will be able to do whatever you want to do before you take the throne. Perhaps even while you are on the throne." She stood, "I know you have another few months of school, but for your Spring Break I think it's finally time that you and your father see Genovia. I will call you later, when you have time to process it."

"Yes Grandmère. Where are you staying?"

"At an elegant bed and breakfast just outside of town. They were very generous when they heard of my arrival and agreed not to take in any more guests. It's very nice, I will have you over to visit while we discuss lessons."

At this point in time, Kurt completely skimmed over her mention of 'lessons'.

"_Bientot_, Kurt."

"_Salut_," he replied, not even thinking about it. She smiled at him and left the room. After a bit, the sounds of a car pulling away could be heard.

After another couple of minutes, Burt came in and pulled up the chair beside his son.

"Hey, you okay?"

"No Dad, I'm not okay." Kurt whispered, Burt smiled softly at him.

"You have plenty of time to figure it out. Your Grandmother loves you, I don't think she's that nice to anyone else. Your Uncle Phil always used to say she locked him in the dungeons as punishment."

"Well he's an asshole." Kurt muttered. A bit of silence, "What did you tell Blaine?"

"Just that your mom was royalty, and that's what your grandmother was here to talk to you about. He's in the den if you want to tell him anything more right now, or I could go and ask him to leave if you'd like?"

"No, I'll go talk to him. I'm just going to… go freshen up real quick." Kurt stood, "tell him I'll be right there."

He walked up the stairs to the guest room and opened up the cabinet they would never toss, breathing in his mother's perfume. '_I can do this_,' he reassured himself, '_what guy wouldn't want to hear that his boyfriend would one-day have to rule a country. Great, right?_' Kurt took another deep breath, rolling his eyes at his own thoughts, and turned to go and talk to Blaine.

It would be safer, he figured, to look in first - so he could gauge the other boy's mood. Blaine seemed distressed, he was pacing and running a hand through his hair. It was a good thing, Kurt mused, that there was no gel stifling it today. With another deep breath, Kurt pushed the door all the way open, and Blaine turned, jumping slightly and sliding his hands into his jean pockets.

"Hey…" he said.

"Hey," Kurt replied, walking a bit closer, "I'm sorry I never told you."

"It's okay, it's pretty big news. We've barely even been dating a year."

"Sorry my Dad was the one to tell you."

"What did your grandmother want?" Blaine asked, his voice sounded a bit strained. Kurt sat on the couch and looked up at his pacing Warbler, "I mean, is she okay with… us? She seemed nice but if you're royalty, I mean, she might – " Kurt cut him off before Blaine could start rambling… much like Kurt, he had that tendency.

"No, that's not why she was here." he said softly. Blaine visibly relaxed.

"Oh thank God," he said softly, pulling his boyfriend off the couch and into a hug, "I love you so much Kurt."

"I love you too Blaine, I wouldn't care what she said about that anyway." Kurt replied, his voice muffled by his hair, "It's just…" Kurt pulled away, starting to pace himself, "I have to tell you something." Still looking concerned, Blaine took Kurt's spot on the couch, crossing his legs and watching earnestly.

"What is it?"

"Well, so since my Mom was Royalty, I'm a prince."

"Well I always knew you were my prince, I just didn't realize you were an actual one." To Kurt's mortification he felt his face flush.

"Blaine, that was so cheesy." He shrugs in response, "Uhm, well, my Mom's only sibling was her brother – my Uncle Phil." Kurt paused, not sure what to say, "Uhm, well…" Blaine just continued watching– tilting his head slightly, "Uh, he doesn't have any kids. And he, uhm, won't be having any. You know... ever."

Blaine's expression changed from a confused one to a shocked one in nearly an instant.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So, you're going to…"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Not for a really long time, though, Blaine." Kurt said softly, avoiding his boyfriend's face as Blaine ran his hand through his curly locks again.

"H-how long?"

"Years and years. Grandmère is still alive and kicking, and after her, Uncle Phil will take over. I'll probably be very, very old before I take over."

"So, you're not leaving?" Blaine asked softly. Kurt couldn't help but smile, relieved to know that he wasn't mad.

"No, I-" Kurt looked up to continue, but was cut off as Blaine went from sitting cross-legged on the couch to standing and very much making-out with his boyfriend in the span of 3 seconds.

"Sorry," he muttered into Kurt's neck, "I was planning on doing that up until you saw your grandmother's limo."

"Don't apologize, I was planning the same thing," Kurt replied. There's a sudden loud noise that turns out to be Burt walking around in the kitchen, and Blaine glances at the still-open door and cleared his throat.

"So where are you a Prince?" Kurt gazed sadly at Blaine's lips as he replied.

"Genovia, it's a small principality in Europe, by France and Italy."

"Oh, so _that's _why you're fluent in French."

"_Oui_." Kurt replied with a smirk. They sit on the couch.

"So what happens now?" Blaine asks quietly.

"Nothing," Kurt replied, with a bit more force than he had intended, "nothing is different except for the fact that Grandmère is in town now. That's the only difference."

"That's another thing, whenever you mentioned your Grandmother you always said she'd stay at the Plaza. Where exactly is she staying in Ohio that compares to that?"

"Do you remember everything I ever say?" Kurt asked, a bit impressed. Blaine flushed.

"Only when you're gone for a week visiting your rich grandmother in New York."

"She's staying at some fancy bed and breakfast just outside of town."

"Oh! I think I know that place," Blaine said suddenly, "It's, like, right by Dalton. Doesn't…" he paused, biting his lip.

"Doesn't what?" Kurt asked, a feeling of dread building in his stomach.

"Doesn't Mike Chang's family own that?"

Kurt knocked three times on the door, and it swung open. Aside from having a freaky memory, Kurt reflected, Blaine also had an annoying habit of being correct. All the time.

"Oh. Hey Kurt," Mike said, looking confused, "can I help you with something?"

"I'm here to see my grandmother," Kurt said, trying to look nonchalant. Mike's eyebrows shot up and he opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by Grandmère's voice echoing from up the stairs.

"Is that my grandson? Send him up you lazy boy, don't dawdle!" Kurt winced.

"Uhh, sorry about that. She's kind of a mean person." He muttered as he walked in, Mike shutting the door behind him. The Asian boy shrugged.

"Yeah, I discovered that after the first night. We've had worse though." There was a period of awkward silence as Mike led the way to the stairs, "Uh, so Kurt. You're…"

"Don't tell anyone. Please, please don't tell anyone." Kurt muttered in a rush, grabbing onto Mike's arm.

"Relax, I wasn't going to. Are you alright though? I mean, is there a reason she's here?"

"Uh, yes." Kurt said, deciding that was true enough.

"Does it have to do with the fact that she's a Queen?"

"She's a regent, actually," Kurt said, avoiding the question and jogging up the stairs.

"But Kurt – "

"I'll talk to you later, Mike, thanks!" Kurt said, closing the door at the top of the stairs.

"Oh, do you know that boy?" Grandmère asked as Kurt walked over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Yeah, he's one of my friends from Glee Club."

"He's very tall for an Asian boy, isn't he?"

"Grandmère!" Kurt hissed.

"Don't be so sensitive, Kurt." She replied, rolling her eyes.

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Your future."

"What about it?" he asked warily, "You said I'd have time to do anything I wanted."

"Yes, but you do still have duties to maintain as Prince…" she started.

And that, Kurt reflects, is when things really started getting weird…


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: Genovia's Prince**  
>Author<strong>: Me!**  
>Pairing<strong>: Klaine.**  
>Plot<strong>: Kurt is the heir to the throne in Genovia. (Glee/The Princess Diaries | More of Movie!Grandmere, than book.**  
>Excerpt<strong>: _"Excuse me – Karofsky?" Kurt winced, as did Mike – apparently having realizing he gave a bit too much information, "That Neanderthal that abused you for a year while your school administration did nothing?" Mike stifled a grin – they spoke exactly the same way._

* * *

><p>Lessons.<p>

Kurt would have to take Prince Lessons. That was all his mind would process at the moment.

"BOY – "

"Mike." Kurt Muttered.

"MIKE, bring us that tea!" Grandmère called down the stairs.

"So every Tuesday and Thursday?" Kurt repeated.

"Yes. Barring and international incident," Grandmère drawled, "you will be here, learning about your country." She smiled, "you inherited much of your mother's grace, you're lucky you won't need more preparation." Kurt flushed and decided to take it as a compliment as Mike came up the stairs holding a tray of tea. Grandmère took a cup and took a sip, smiling, "also, we should talk about your protection."

"My protection?" Kurt asked, smiling at Mike as he set down a cup in front of him.

"Yes. I will be sending you with a bodyguard. Surely you did not think that you could hide how… "Grandmère took a deep breath, "violent your school was."

"A bodyguard?" Kurt screeched, "I can't go around with a bodyguard, people will know – they'll think I've gone nuts."

"Madame Renaldi?" Mike spoke up. Both of the royals in the room turned to stare, "McKinley recently adopted a program called the BullyWhips. For all intents and purposes Kurt does have a bodyguard. Karofsky is as good as one."

"Excuse me – _Karofsky_?" Kurt winced, as did Mike – apparently having realizing he gave a bit too much information, "That _Neanderthal_ that abused you for a year while your school administration did _nothing_?"

Mike had to hide his grin – they spoke exactly the same way.

"Grandmère, please, that's nothing anymore," Kurt hissed.

"I _refuse_ to have my Grandson's protection dependent on this – this – in-closet, homophobic moron!"

"_Grandmère_!" Kurt hissed, glancing at Mike, who – to his credit – was watching the ceiling with a bored expression.

"No – no. Either you accept one of my bodyguards or you return to Dalton Academy." She stated. Kurt paused, considering this, "Kurt, I am very sorry that I was never there to fund your attendance to begin with – it's a very prestigious school that you should have been attending anyway."

"Uhm, ma'am, with all due respect I think that it would benefit Kurt greatly to at least try to maintain a sense of normalcy in all of this. " Grandmère eyed Mike speculatively – Kurt could practically see the cogs in her head whirring.

"Mike Chang, was it?" Mike nodded, "Are you apart of this _BullyWhips_ program?"

"Uhm , no…" Mike said, choosing not to mention the fact that it had basically been a ploy for Santana and Karofsky to gain prom votes.

"If you agree to be Kurt's body guard, I will allow him to return to McKinley for the time being." Grandmère said. Kurt and Mike turned to look at one another.

"… I could do that, if Kurt agrees to it." The Asian boy said after a pause.

"Uhm, sure – as long as you don't wear a beret or a shiny red jacket," Kurt said.

"I could deal with that."

"Well alright then," Grandmère said, looking somewhat pleased, but not altogether happy, "I suppose that will do."

After about another half an hour of discussion, Kurt was hugging her goodbye and following Mike down the stairs.

"Uhm, so Mike… thank-you." Kurt said.

"Anytime Kurt, you're family remember?" Mike said, cracking a grin, "And I promise not to tell anyone."

"Especially Tina." Kurt said.

"Especially Tina," Mike agreed, "I love her, but she is terrible with secrets. Are you going to tell Mercedes?"

"Yeah," Kurt said, glancing at his phone, "I will, just after I figure out what to say."

"Well, good luck. I'll see you in school next week?"

"I guess so – mister bodyguard," Kurt agreed, rolling his eyes and going out into the drive where his Grandmère's ridiculous limo waited to take him back to his house.

"Hey Kurt," Sam whispered, leaning closer during lunch, "do you think it's kind of weird that Mike and you are in all of the same classes?"

"I think it's weirder that all of Karofsky's classes are on the opposite side of the school every single period. Awesome, but weird," Puck said.

"I like it," Mike voiced, "it's like I have a built-in study buddy!" he leaned over Tina to offer a fist-bump to Kurt, who returned it reluctantly. Truth be told, he was a bit afraid that people would find out. Mercedes, Finn, Mike, and Blaine were the only people he had told, and he didn't know what Grandmère had told Figgins to arrange what she had with his schedule. Spaghetti Monster knows that Figgins would never arrange something like that on his own.

Plus, Mike may have been taking this bodyguard thing a bit too seriously. Anytime anyone outside of the Glee club got _close _to Kurt, Mike would suddenly appear and glare at them. Azimov had walked by and Mike had practically _shoved_ Kurt into the nearest classroom.

Kurt bet that Grandmère had threatened him, it seemed like something she would do.

"I know he means well, Mercedes, but I can't help thinking that it's conspicuous," Kurt whispered to her in between classes, glancing furtively around for his shadow. Mercedes laughed.

"Kurt, it's just something any of us would do if we were in all of your classes. Glee is a family, we look out for one another." She smiled and patted him on the cheek, "it's fine."

"Yeah, we'll see how you think it's fine when I make you my lady-in-waiting and you have to move to Genovia." Mercedes laughed.

"Could you do that? That'd be fantastic!"

"And don't think I don't know!" Kurt called after her as she walked down the hallway. She paused as though to glance back at him but didn't.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she called back. Kurt smirked and shook his head as she disappeared around the corner. She couldn't deny it forever. It'd probably be easier to get Sam to spill anyway...

"Hey – out of my way fag," a hockey player bustled past, elbowing Kurt to the side. Kurt hissed, freezing up. It had been a long time since…

_"I'll kill you."_

"Hey!" to his shock, it was Tina's voice – then he noticed Asian fusion had been making out a few lockers down the entire time, "You don't talk to him like that!" She walked over and touched Kurt's arm, "Are you okay?"

"Whatever, vampire princess." The guy muttered, rolling his eyes.

"No – not whatever," Mike said, striding over, he pulled a bright red beret out of his jacket and put it on his head, "You are off to Figgins' office, Peters."

"What the Hell, Chang?" the guy exclaimed as Mike carted him off.

"Kurt, are you okay?" Tina asked. Kurt was still frozen on the spot, staring at where the hockey player had been.

_"I'll kill you."_

"I'm fine, Tina, really." He lied, smiling at her, "I was just a little startled, that's all. Thank-you."

"Yeah, no problem." She said, smiling at him and looping her arm in his, "let's get you off to class, okay?" Kurt laughed.

"Alright, vampire princess," he drawled.

"I prefer to be known as the Queen, thanks." Tina replied with a smirk. Kurt laughed at the irony.

"Kurt, I am so so sorry!" Mike exclaimed later at The Lima Bean the instant that Tina went to the lady's room, "I can't believe I didn't manage to stop him!"

"Mike, calm down." Kurt said, rolling his eyes, "You can't stop everyone who wants to do or say something to me – you did manage to get him a week's detention."

"But Tina said you were pale and shaking afterward," Mike protested, a sad look on his face.

"Kurt, I thought you said it wasn't a big deal," Mercedes said, a concerned look on her face.

"It _wasn't_, okay? It… I just had forgotten what the bullying was like, and it just reminded me… Look, it's over now can we just move on."

"What are you guys talking about?" Tina asked, sliding into the booth beside Mike. He kissed her on the top of her head and draped an arm over her shoulders.

"Just class stuff," Mike said with a shrug.

"Do you guys have homework already?" she asked with a laugh, "It's only the first week of school!"

"No homework, but there was a hint about a possible quiz on Monday," Kurt said, rolling his eyes.

"There was?" Mike asked, looking panicked, "What class? I didn't think I'd have to start reading for the first week!" The rest just rolled their eyes and laughed.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Hey Guys! Thanks for the kind reviews and all of the story alerts, hopefully those of you who didn't review will eventually work up the nerve. ;D  
>Anyway, this was supposed to be a one-shot to get an idea out of my head, but you all seemed to like it, so it'll really be a series of one-shots all around the same idea chronologically. (isn't that a story? … shush, you.) Anyhow! So if anyone has and ideas or suggestions to help me get the story moving, just drop it in a review!<p>

*edited, I used a wrong 'to' I am so ashamed.*


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**: Genovia's Prince  
><strong>Author<strong>: Me!  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Klaine.  
><strong>Plot<strong>: Kurt is the heir to the throne in Genovia. (Glee/The Princess Diaries | More of Movie!Grandmere, than book.)  
><strong>Excerpt<strong>: _"Wait, what?" Finn asks, "How'd they find out?" "I don't know!" Kurt screeched, "Call Dad." "But Dude – " "As Prince of Genovia I order you to call Dad right now!" "Oh. Can you actually do that, or?" "Finn!" "Alright, Alright, I was just checking…" Finn muttered, pulling out his phone._

* * *

><p>Kurt doesn't really want to be bothered right now. It's been awhile since he was able to make-out with his boyfriend in peace and now, with his hand pulling on Blaine's curl's and Blaine's knee between his legs, it's a very nice moment.<p>

Sure, they're sort of making out to the background music of mindless beeps and the dulcet tones of "Some Kind of Woman" because both of them, for whatever reason, have been getting texts almost non-stop since they started.

"Ignore it," Kurt whispers into Blaine's neck as Blaine's phone goes off again.

One thing that's hard to ignore, however, is when Finn bursts into the room. He has been told to knock first, as the tall teen has the tendency to walk in on people all the time and then _not leave_ for hours. After the last chewing-out he'd recieved, however, Kurt kind of thought that he would listen.

"Finn, we have a knock policy,"

"Hey, I tried! You guys were just too… distracted to hear me." Finn said, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"That's great Finn." Kurt growled, letting go of Blaine's hair.

"There are people here to see you guys," Finn said, scratching his neck and looking at the doorframe.

"Wait, both of us?" Blaine asked, his voice a little gruff.

"I don't know, there are some warblers too." Blaine and Kurt shared a confused look.

"What are they here about?" Kurt asked, taking in a deep breath as Blaine reached over him and grabbed his phone.

"I'm not sure, Mercedes is really mad and kept shouting at me to hurry up and grab you so I'm not sure…" Finn trailed off, glancing back down the hall.

"Uh, Kurt…" Blainie said. He held up his phone with an open text that read 'CHECK THE NEWS!'

"That can't be good," Kurt muttered.

When they got down the stairs, there were indeed people there. Mercedes, Wes, and David all turned to look at them on the same time.

"Uh… Hey?" Blaine offered.

"Oh my God," Kurt muttered, staring at the television. CNN was up and the headline at the bottom read: REPORTER UNCOVERS THE IDENTITY OF THE NEXT-IN-LINE TO RULE GENOVIA.

"Wait, what?" Finn asks, "How'd they find out?"

"I don't know!" Kurt screeched, "Call Dad."

"But Dude – "

"As Prince of Genovia I order you to call Dad right now!"

"Oh. Can you actually do that, or?"

"Finn!"

"Alright, Alright, I was just checking…" Finn muttered, pulling out his phone.

"What's going on?" Blaine asks, walking over to stand behind the couch to see the television better. His hand still wrapped around Kurt's, he pulls him along.

"Somehow someone figured out who Kurt is," Wes said, "all of the newslines are exploding but they haven't released your name yet." He added, turning to Kurt.

"Wait, how do you know?" Kurt asked, frowning at them.

"My Uncle's the Genovian ambassador," David answered, "We went to dinner with your Grandmother a few days ago and she was talking about how her Grandson went to school at Dalton too, but then – for whatever reason – transferred back to his hooligan-infested public school last spring."

"We kind of assumed…" Wes trailed off. Kurt's other hand covered his face.

"Oh my God, this wasn't supposed to happen! It was supposed to be a secret!"

Now he would never make it in Broadway, whatever roles he got would be based on his status not his obvious talent and if it was on his talent, the director would still get flack for it and who would want that and OH MY GOD the admissions process at NYU or Columbia would be the same way and he would never be able to do anything with his life and Grandmère would ship him off to Genovia to go to one of the three universities there and Blaine wouldn't be allowed to come and they'd have to break up and he'd never see anyone ever again and he would never be able to perform again and he'd die alone a wizened old king with no heirs to his throne and the country would fall apart and everything would explode.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked softly, squeezing his hand, "Are you alright? You haven't said anything for two minutes."

"Explode…" Kurt whispered as his only response, his eyes wide and staring blankly at the screen.

"I don't understand how they found out, though." Finn said. Oh, he had returned to the room at some point, lovely.

"Some really bored reporter apparently got word that the Queen was in Lima and they basically stalked the Bed and Breakfast and saw Kurt coming and going all the time, did some digging on the Royal family and found out about Kurt's mom," Wes said, fiddling with his iPhone.

"It sounds very sketch," Mercedes grumbled.

"It's the media, it _is_ very sketch." Wes replied.

"So what happens now?" Finn asked. Everyone in the room turned to look at Kurt. Kurt balked and, pulling his hand from Blaine's grasp, fled back up the stairs.

"Kurt!" Blaine exclaimed, starting after him.

"Hold on," Mercedes said, standing, "I'll go talk to him." Waving Blaine away, she followed her best friend up the stairs, Blaine watching worriedly.

"Kurt?" Mercedes called softly, "What's on your mind."

"Oh I don't know, Mercedes, just that my life is over," he replied rather cattily.

"Would you calm down."

"You calm down. Any second now, the flashing words on the bottom of the screen will exclaim – ' Heir to Genovian Throne a Fag.'!"

"KURT!" Mercedes yelled, "Don't use that word!"

"What's the point? Other people are going to!" Kurt yelled back.

"That doesn't mean that you have to. What's up with you? You're normally better under pressure."

"Yeah, well, it's just… frustrating because for the past two weeks the only major shift from this news was bi-weekly Prince lessons and having Mike Chang follow me around like an Asian Doberman. And now, what?"

"Now what?" Mercedes asked, her tone urging him to elaborate.

"Now… now I don't know! I don't know what to expect, I just keep imaging all of these horrible situations and… everything is going to be different."

"What sort of situations?" Mercedes probed, sliding down to sit next to Kurt, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Like… the media's going to be all over, all the time. And they're going to start hounding everybody – you, Dad, Carole, The Glee Club… Blaine. And everyone's going to get tired of it, and it'll be my fault. And they'll be calling me names, but then they'll also be calling _you guys_ names and then you'll all get frustrated because it's all my fault and then you'll just start talking to me less because it's just easier and then I'll have to move to Genovia early and then I'll die alone because no one wants to talk to the bothersome prince of Genova!" Kurts' voice slowly rose in pitch as he continued talking.

"Okay boy, calm down." Mercedes said flatly. She adjusted her stance to look him in the eye, "First of all, I can't speak for everyone, but I'm not going anywhere. BFF stands for something, you know." Kurt gave a reluctant smile, "And Blaine loves you, remember? He's not going to care. Plus, he boards at Dalton – and I don't think they let reporters on the campus."

"I wasn't _just_ talking about Blaine." Kurt muttered, "But thanks, I was just…"

"Rambling in your brain and getting yourself worked up?"

"Worried." Kurt corrected. There was a bit of silence, "So were you ever going to tell me about you and Sam, or…"

"What! How did you find out?" Mercedes exclaimed. Kurt just gave her a pitying smile.

"Oh Mercedes, I always know. You wore his old letterjacket last week - the blue and yellow one." Mercedes wondered why she was even shocked that he had noticed.

"We just didn't want to tell anyone because having a relationship in Glee club is like… trying to get a cerebus into a tiny knitted dog sweater."

"He's converting you into a geek!"

"Oh shut-up," Mercedes said, rolling her eyes with a grin and hitting him lightly on the arm.

"Okay." Kurt said after a little bit.

"You think you're ready to go back down and start figuring out what to do?" Mercedes asked. Kurt stood, and then helped her up.

"No. But apparently being a Prince means that you should always at least appear to know what you're doing," he recited in a poor imitation of Grandmère's voice.

"Is that what you're learning in those Prince classes of yours?"

"That and posture."

"But you have great posture."

"I know, that's what I said. You could tell she was impressed but all she said was 'smug smiles do not good posture make,' which really didn't make any sense."

When they re-emerged into the living room, everyone turned to look at them. Blaine had those sad-puppy eyes he always got when he was upset or worried and they made Kurt feel a little guilty.

"Hey man, are you okay?" Finn asked, "Burt should be home within the hour, he said."

"I'll be alright," Kurt said softly, "I just don't know what to do."

Rule #3 of royalty – be honest with those you trust. Well, actually, Grandmère had used the word _advisors_, but Kurt didn't have any advisors, so these guys would do.

"Mercedes, call Mike – I assume Grandmère's phones are ringing off the hook as it is, she knows how to get a hold of me if worse comes to worse. David, Wes, did they say when they're going to reveal the name?"

"No," Wes shook his head, "I assume they're waiting until they find your address or something – they'll want a picture to go with the news. They'll want to get the first shot at you." Wes' father was a reporter for a national chain, and his mother was in public relations – he was an expert.

"David, does your Uncle have any word from the embassy?"

"Just that they have no statement right now – I assume they'll try to get a hold of you."

"Mike says that the B&B is surrounded by reporters, but no one has gone out to talk to them yet," Mercedes said, "he says your Grandmother is trying to get a hold of you but her phones are backed up so… Oh, hold on." She handed him the phone.

"Kurt."

"Grandmère." He said, "what's going to happen now?"

"Well, right now we're going to have a press conference and formally introduce you to the public. Hopefully that will get the press off our backs for now."

"What? Really?"

"Of course, they'll be less interested if they don't force it out in the open themselves. I am having someone call in to have an appointment for a conference in one hour." Kurt glanced at the clock.

"Oh."

"Kurt, you will be fine. I'll send someone as soon as I'm able to pick you up and you can work on your statement."

"My statement?" Kurt squeaked.

"Yes. I have to talk to some of my advisors now, but you'll be fine."

"Grandmère!" Kurt exclaimed.

"Sorry Kurt," Mike's voice replied instead, "this sucks."

"It's fine Mike, thanks…" Kurt handed Mercedes her phone back and sank onto the couch. Wes patted his shoulder sympathetically.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked softly, leaning over the couch over Kurt's shoulder.

"I have to prepare a statement for the press."

"That's expected," Wes offered, "what are you going to say?"

"I don't know."

"Well," Blaine said, grabbing onto Kurt's hand. The prince gave it a thankful squeeze, "I think it would be best if you were as honest as possible." Kurt leaned his head back to give him a curious look.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't really think you should pretend like you've known you would take the throne your entire life, for one."

"What makes sense," Wes agreed, "they'd see right through that, try to cause some controversy over it."

"But does the press know about Uncle Phil's… surgery?" Kurt asked blankly.

"Yes," David said, "that's why they're all over this story. They know that there's an heir who's not who they thought it would be. Plus, your mother was a National Treasure, all of the Genovians will love you." Blaine gave Kurt's hand a little squeeze and kissed the top of his head.

"Alright then," Kurt said, taking a deep breath, "let's write me a statement!"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> HI! So thank-you to CrayonsPink Klaine Loving Anon, and BuddyGirl1004 for reviewing! The anon, especially, for the suggestions. I, for one really love the idea of Klaine at fancy state dinners. Anyway, next chapter will be the press conference. I mean, I think, to be honest I just sort of make it up as I go along. But as long as you guys keep enjoying it. I will do my best to continue writing it.

(Sorry Guys! I was editing chapters 1 and 2 and accidentally uploaded the revised Chapter 2 for chapter 3. xD Heh. Anyway, sorry about that!)

SO!

**What Sort of Questions Should Kurt Have to Field at his Press Conference? :3**


	4. Chapter 4

**Title**: Genovia's Prince**  
>Author<strong>: Me!**  
>Pairings<strong>: Klaine.**  
>Plot<strong>: Kurt is the heir to the throne in Genovia. (Glee/The Princess Diaries | More of Movie!Grandmere, than book.)**  
>Excerpt<strong>: _Also, people were taking pictures of him! It was like, every time he turned around there was a distinctive cameraphone 'click'. One girl had even asked him to pose with her!  
>Well, he had, but he didn't know what else to do!<em>

* * *

><p>"Hello, I am Kurt Hummel," Kurt spoke clearly into the microphone, focusing on not dropping an 'uhm' somewhere in there, "and as some of you may know, I am third-in-line to the Genovian throne."<p>

After this statement, there was a flurry of more photography and a near-roar of various reporters clamoring to get his attention and ask questions. As he was trained to, Kurt held up a hand and it gradually died down.

"I have always known that my Mother came from a royal family. However, it was never a possibility I would take over the throne because my Uncle Phillipe –" Grandmère had threatened pain if he had called him Phil – "was older and next in line. However, a few months ago my Uncle had surgery and he will not be having children. I learned of my status as a Prince approximately two weeks ago, and wished to understand my position better before going public. Unfortunately, the circumstances have left me ill-prepared. I do take my position very seriously, however, and will do my best to be what Genovia needs. I will now take questions." That was actually a lot easier to get out than he thought it would be. He had borrowed a bit of Blaine's natural earnest attitude and added a bit of his own bite when mentioning the 'circumstances' but he got it all out. Now for the questions. The moderator – was that what they were called? He was going with moderator – pointed at a reporter that, coincidentally enough, Kurt recognized as Wes' Dad.

"You say you learned about your impending rule," that was quite a term, Kurt thought idly to himself, " two weeks ago. What were the circumstances?"

"Well, I was coming home and I saw my Grandmère's limo in the driveway; I could tell it was hers because it had two miniature Genovian flags as hood ornaments. When I went inside, Grandmère was indeed there and she took me into the kitchen and calmly told me the circumstances of my inheritance." Kurt finished talking, but they were all still looking at him expectantly, "That's about it." He added a bit lamely. The Moderator pointed at another reporter.

"Were you surprised to learn of it?" Kurt blinked before leaning back into the microphone.

"Yes."

"Do you plan on moving to Genovia?" Another reporter was called upon.

"As it is arranged now, I will spend this upcoming summer in Genovia, but I will attend college here in the states. I do not plan on moving there in the immediate future, no."

"But you will eventually?" The same reporter asked, receiving a glare from the moderator.

"Well, Yes. I don't think that helping to rule a country is something you can telecommute to," Kurt joked, happy to see a couple of the reporters laugh.

"Will you be graduating High School?"

"Yes." Kurt answered, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. No no, he was royalty. Who needs an education?

"Have you given any thought to colleges?"

"I have decided that I would like to go to school in New York City. I have not, however, looked into any specific universities." He sounded so formal and awkward, he just wished it would be over soon.

"Do you speak the French and Italian?" came from another reporter. Kurt grinned, that was far more relevant.

"I am fluent in French, and getting there in Italian." He answered.

"Which political faction do you support in Genovia?" came a political reporter from the back.

"I am not prepared to back any at this time," came the rehearsed answer, "I will, instead, focus on any relevant ideas at hand before looking at which side it's on." That was less-rehearsed; he could practically _feel_ Grandmère rolling her eyes.

"Are you gay?" This question came from a reporter in the back.

Even though, in the frantic limo-ride to the conference, the old guy in the suit kept on talking about being 'innocent' and not 'media trained' and 'winning their favor,' that was one issue that they never really addressed.

"While I don't see what that has to do with things at the moment, yes I am. Proudly." More cameras went off at this. Kurt wasn't sure why, most of them were taking videos. Did his face differ that much? He just smiled, imaging the paparazzi was for his latest star role.

"Are you seeing anyone?" Kurt stilled.

"I don't see how that has any relevance to the issue at hand," he replied, cooling his expression to one of nonchalance.

"What about heirs?"

"Kurt, Kurt, look over here!"

"Does your family know?"

"Smile for California!"

"What does your Grandmother think about your sexuality?"

"Did you experience bullying?"

"Kurt, Kurt! Tell us what you think about the Defense of Marriage Act!"

The voices all started yelling at once, and Kurt took a step backwards, overwhelmed. The moderator turned to him and made a cutting motion over her neck.

"Thank-you," Kurt said, managing one more smile before disappearing behind the curtain. He walked a few steps before sliding into a sitting position on the floor. After a few seconds the tell-tale sounds of heels could be heard and his grandmother was offering him a hand up.

"You did lovely, Kurt. The media is just in a frenzy today, I suppose." Kurt just wrapped his arms around himself, that was terrifying. She patted his arm, "It's over now, Kurt, you can relax."

"But Grandmère, it's never going to be over." Kurt muttered. He took a deep breath, "they're going to be following me forever!"

"Not forever, surely, just until they get bored of you," Grandmère said like it was no big deal. She shrugged and walked for the door, Kurt staring after her in disbelief. She turned back around and raised an eyebrow, "are you coming?"

"Oh, right." Kurt muttered.

Naturally, the press went wild with news of the "Gay Prince of Genovia." The phones at the house were overrun with calls the entire weekend. Kurt's Dad told him to just disconnect the phone, but Kurt checked every message, even the bad ones.

He really wanted to see if he could go on Ellen.

In any case, on Monday he was anything but ready to go back to school. But, when his alarm went off at 6:30, Kurt woke up, did his morning moisturizing routine, fixed his hair, went to wake up Finn, got dressed, gathered his bag, went to wake up Finn again, and got his breakfast.

When he got downstairs, however, toast wasn't the only thing waiting for him.

"Dad…"

"Yes son?"

"Are those camera flashes attacking our curtains?"

"Yes son."

They tried to eat breakfast in peace. Finn took a whole ten minutes to notice the noise and flashes when he finally emerged to eat breakfast. When the brothers left the house, they realized the main problem.

Namely, there was no way they would be able to leave the house. Kurt stood awkwardly by his Navigator as the reporters swarmed.

"Uhm, could you guys move?" He asked politely. They didn't seem to hear him, all shouting random things. Finn, from his position of great height, could see over the mob.

"Hey, Kurt, I think that limo in the back is for you! What does the Genovian flag look like?"

"Oh, come on…" Kurt muttered. Eventually the two fought through the crowd enough to get to the limo with the little flags on the front. Mike was waiting inside.

"Hey guys," he said, "the driver's name is Sebastian, by the way."

"Oh. Hello." Kurt greeted. The driver waved slightly, starting to pull out of the driveway as Finn and Kurt got all buckled in.

"So this is crazy, right?" Mike exclaimed, "All of these reporters – I think there are more than there were at my house." He peered out of the tinted windows, "Oh. I guess they're going to follow us to school."

"Ugghh, of course they are." Kurt groaned, sinking in his seat. From his position in the seat opposite Kurt's, Finn reached over and patted his shoulder. It was with a bit more force than Kurt assumed he intended, but it was a nice gesture nonetheless.

Once they reached the school, the press coverage was even worse. They had almost blocked off the parking lots with all the vans – so angry students, teachers, and parents could be heard yelling and honking. Finn and Mike on either side of him, Kurt had actually _sprinted_ into the building, camera flashes going off.

Furthermore, in the building was hardly better. Press practically _covered_ the windows – camera flashes were starting to give Kurt a migraine and, of course, the school was way to cheap to even consider having curtains or blinds in any of the classrooms, so everyone else was getting annoyed too.

Also, people were taking pictures of him! It was like, every time he turned around there was a distinctive cameraphone 'click'. One girl had even asked him to pose with her!

Well, he _had_, but he didn't know what else to do!

And lunch was a disaster. There was no way he could go into the courtyard, and all of the windows in the lunchroom were crowded. It was terrible. He ended up huddled in the library with Mercedes and a sandwich, checking the news on his iphone.

"People are giving interviews about me!" Kurt exclaimed, "look – there's Quinn!" checking for the librarian, the two huddled around the phone and turned up the volume on the livestream.

"I don't think you'll get many accurate interviews around here," Quinn said. Kurt was happy to note that she looked protective, "quite frankly most of the school treated him terribly. Don't believe what those other people were telling you." Then she flounced off.

_Other people?_

Because, apparently, it was just everyone's right to talk to reporters about Kurt's likes and dislikes and friends. One of the good things about all of the reporter's digging, however, was what Kurt and the Glee club would later refer to as 'slushiegate'. They had found no less than 20 videos of the members of the glee club – including Kurt – getting slushied on various Football and Hockey players' youtube channels. The reporters were calling it a "gross lack of justice" and a "lack of discipline at this school."

They had interviewed the QuikShoppe owner who claimed that he didn't know about the uses of the slushies. They interviewed one of the kids whose youtube channels they found a video on who claimed it was a "bonding thing."

Then the news had inserted a clip of _Artie_ getting slushied by about 12 different people at once.

"He never told us about that…" Mercedes said softly.

"I can't watch this anymore," Kurt said, closing out of the window on his phone, "it's like re-living it all over again."

Glee club, a welcome break because the Choir room had no windows, was much the same experience. Puck had wheeled in one of the AV Club's tvs and they all watched the news.

"They apparently just got a hold of some of our performance tapes," Artie said when Kurt walked in to see this, "they're showing them now."

"Wow. I was _awesome _in Valerie," Santana said, raising her eyebrows. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Wait. Have they gotten to Regionals yet? They're going to see my duet with Blaine!"

"What's the big deal?" Lauren asked, "it's not like duet automatically equals a couple."

"Every single duet this team has done for a competition has been between a couple," Mercedes pointed out.

"That's not even the point, the point is that even if it weren't true, the media is going to assume it _is _true anyway and start hounding after Blaine."

Everyone got quiet as they played Candles on the screen.

"Wow. I was really sharp," Kurt said with a wince. Mercedes shushed him and had Puck turn up the volume.

"The boy dueting with Prince Kurt is currently unidentified. However, multiple facebook pictures have surfaced featuring the two – "

"What!"

"Sorry Kurt!" Exclaimed Brittany, "I know you told all of us to make our profiles private, but I don't know how and Santana came over to teach me but we got distracted. I'll totally do a segment on privacy on the next Fondue for Two, though."

And sure enough, the pictures they showed were from Brittany's facebook. Just of all of them hanging out.

"The tag is not linked to a specific facebook profile, it's just tagged as 'Blaine Warbler,' – " the newscast continued. Despite the situation, Kurt snorted. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he looked at the text from Blaine.

_'She knows that's not actually my name, right?_ – Blaine'

'_I don't think she does, actually.'_ Kurt texted back with a smile.

"This is wonderful!" Rachel, who looked as though she were about to burst the entire day finally exclaimed.

"Wonderful? Our boy Kurt over here is getting stalked!" Puck exclaimed.

"But don't you see – our music is getting exposed to the _world_!" her face was shining, "this is our chance!"

"That's great for you Rachel, really." Kurt said, rolling his eyes, "the only music _I_ really want to embrace right now is a rendition of Gaga's _Paparazzi_."

"We so should!" Exclaimed Mercedes, effectively cutting off whatever Rachel was about to reply with, "that would be so cool."

On the screen, the Glee club's _Born This Way_ performance was playing. Kurt's phone vibrated again.

'_You look so sexy in that video_ – Blaine'

Kurt blushed and didn't respond.

"Yeah, we should!" Tina agreed, "we all love Gaga."

"We can think about it," Mr. Shue replied, "But I really think we should be focusing on preparing for sec-" he turned, distracted as Mrs. Pillsbury stood in the doorway.

"Principal Figgins wants to see Kurt," she said softly. The room all turned to stare at Kurt, who felt like a helicopter finding beam had just hit him. He stood, trying to look poised, and grabbed his bag.

"Alright then." He left the room, and Mike followed after him, "you don't have to come with me everywhere." he said, rolling his eyes.

"Yes I do," Mike said, "it's in my contract."

Kurt decided it was better not to ask.

"Principal Figgins, you wanted to see me?" Kurt asked.

"Yes. Mister Hummel, Kurt. I wanted to talk to you about the media coverage that's attacking the school." It was then that Kurt noticed his Dad in the office. This wasn't good.

"I'm sorry sir, but there's really nothing I can do to make them go away," Kurt said cautiously, "they just sort of follow me around."

"You need to figure something out. It is out of my hands to force them to leave, this is a public school," Principal Figgins replied, "I keep getting calls from angry parents."

"Yeah, angry about the slushies – not angry about the press. Hell, half of their kids are talking to them anyway!" Burt replied, clearly angry about that himself.

"The fact is that the press is disrupting the learning environment, and we can suspend for that."

"What?" Burt demanded, "You can't suspend him for something he has no control over!"

"But he does have control of it." Figgins said, "just make the press go away, and he'll be fine."

"I can't _make _them go away unless you call the police!" Exclaimed Kurt, "and even then it probably wouldn't do anything!"

"My hands are tied," Figgins repeated.

"You really have to get tired of saying that all the time." Kurt snapped, standing and storming from the room, nearly hitting Mike with the door.

"What happened?"

"He wants to suspend me!" Kurt snapped, taking a deep breath as a flash of light went off somewhere from his right, "Let's just go back to the Choir room." He glanced back to Figgins' office, where his Dad still sat, discussing.

"What happened?" Mercedes asked the instant the re-entered the room.

"I don't want to talk about it." Kurt muttered, "What'd we miss?"

"You have been romantically linked to every member of Glee club and about half of the Warblers," Rachel informed him.

"Yeah, get some!" Exclaimed Puck. Kurt shot him a withering glare.

"But they're all focusing on 'Blaine Warbler,'" Mercedes offered him, "especially after _someone_ gave an interview where she said that she made out with Kurt once, but he was dating the Warbler now." She glared at Brittany, who smiled brightly back.

"Figgins is going to suspend me," Kurt told her softly, "he's getting bad press because of all the bullying stories that are surfacing. He's going to pull it on the grounds of me being a distraction to the other students." He sighed, "maybe it would just be easier to not be here anyway."

"Kurt, don't say that. Where would you be without me, huh?" Kurt smiled.

"That's very true – a prince is nothing without his best lady-in-waiting." Mercedes gave him a hug.

"Don't worry, it'll all blow over after awhile."

It didn't, though

If anything, the press just got worse. They interviewed more and more students and by the end of the week Kurt was in US Weekly's fashion review and the story had turned into two – one on Kurt, and one on the bullying problem at McKinley.

As it turned out, the school board didn't like that press any more than Figgins did. It all came down to a meeting between Burt, Kurt, Figgins, and Grandmère in Figgins' office.

"You are not going to force my Grandson from his education," Grandmère said, ice in her tone, "I may not like this school, or you, but the Rinaldi family does not succumb to the press."

"Yeah, and neither do the Hummels," Burt agreed. Figgins shifted uncomfortably from their gaze.

"At this point, it is out of my hands. The school board is prepared to suspend Kurt indefinitely unless he transfers first."

"And what exactly are you going to do about the bullying problem? Hide it under a rug?" Burt demanded, "These Glee kids may be picked on the most, but they aren't the only victims at this school."

"Yes, that will be dealt with. The fact is, that Kurt needs to leave."

"So I'm just getting chased out, just like last year?" Kurt demanded, "Just like that? I want to spend my last year here, I want to go to Nationals with Glee club, I want to be with my friends, my family!" Figgins said nothing, "Why do you always take this away from me?" Kurt yelled.

"Kurt…" Burt said, placing a hand on his son's shoulder.

"I'm not coming back," Kurt told Figgins, "no matter what the press says, what pressures you get I am not coming back to this place." He stood, "and there will be questions and – quite frankly – I don't really have any nice things to say." Burt and Grandmère stood too – Burt shooting Figgins a look.

"You can just start with the paperwork to Dalton now," Burt said, "and work on your public statement after that." And then, the Hummels(and Regent Queen) left Figgins' office for good.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> GAH! I'm sorry guys, this took forever to write! I just couldn't figure what to write, was working on another story, and then got my computer taken away until I found a job. Anyway, point is I apologize for taking so long with this chapter. That being said, I'm not sure when the next one will pop into my brain, so keep your alerts up and your reviews coming, and thanks a ton for all your kind words thusfar! :3


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